


Unsanctioned Sleepovers

by allourheroes



Series: A Lot of Explaining [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Humor, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, POV Outsider on Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sleepovers, except the last part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 00:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15521634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: Sheriff Stilinski definitely didn't agree to sleepovers just because he accidentally found out about Stiles and Derek.Or: Five times the Sheriff makes an attempt to discourage Derek sleeping over and one time he encourages it.





	Unsanctioned Sleepovers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, look: A sequel with more of the Sheriff dealing with Stiles and Derek. Because it's fun.
> 
> I'm still planning for more in this universe...
> 
> Also, thanks to superdeanlover for giving it a quick once-over before I posted.

1

It’s the morning after the whole debacle at the school and, although his life has been shaken, Sheriff Noah Stilinski hopes today will go better. It should be a normal weekday so long as word hasn’t gotten around.

As he sips at his coffee, he thinks of what to say if it has, but he’s really hoping to delay those conversations. Permanently, if possible.

When the clock on the microwave tells him it’s 7:15 and he hasn’t seen Stiles, he marches up the stairs and pops open the door. “Stiles—” And he stops because Derek Hale is sitting in the corner while Stiles gets ready.

“Hey, Dad. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be late.”

In his periphery, Noah sees Derek raise an eyebrow.

“And why is he here?”

Stiles scoffs at him. “Come on, Dad. You already know about me and Derek. What’s the point in pretending he’s not gonna stay over?”

Noah gapes at his son, can feel his forehead throbbing at this logical fallacy Stiles has just stated.

“I’m leaving,” Derek announces, and he starts toward the window before Stiles calls him back.

“Doors, Derek. Use them.”

Noah clears his throat uncomfortably. “Seconded.” Then, he turns away because Stiles is kissing Derek goodbye and although he literally found out yesterday how much more they do, it’s still disconcerting.

Derek brushes past him and trots down the stairs, leaving Noah to stare after him.

“Just because I know doesn’t mean he stays.”

Stiles looks at him consideringly for a moment, then laughs.

He’s out the door before Noah can think of a comeback.

Is this his life now?

2

Sheriff Noah Stilinski tries very hard not to work Saturday mornings. He and Stiles both get to sleep in, eat breakfast, and grunt at each other.

As the father of a teenager, it’s the best one can hope for sometimes.

He ambles down the stairs, stretching his aching neck as he goes, and starts to smell cinnamon and maple in the air—which means it’s a special day because Stiles usually tells him a sweet breakfast is a quick trip to diabetes.

Something besides the smell of food drifts to him: the sound of Stiles’s voice.

“Come on, dude. That was funny.”

Before he enters the kitchen, he braces himself.

Yep. Derek Hale is pouring batter into their waffle iron. But he’s fully clothed and he and Stiles aren’t touching, so it could be worse.

He’d like to think that Derek just arrived to make breakfast, but he’s unfortunately not that naive.

“Good morning,” Derek says, without turning.

“Derek apparently likes making waffles,” Stiles explains and he’s handing Noah a cup of coffee. “So you get waffles. This once! Don’t think there isn’t kale in the fridge with your name on it.”

“Uh-huh,” Noah says. Because he’s processing. The paper is already on the table and he flips through it for a moment, waiting for his brain to switch on. Then, there’s a plate being slid in front of him and he takes a bite without thinking.

He stops. He folds down the newspaper to see both Stiles and Derek staring at him.

“It’s good,” he says, mouth still full.

Stiles looks vaguely skeptical, but then he nods. “Huh.”

Noah notes Derek’s glare in Stiles’s direction.

“I’m not trying to poison you,” Derek growls and Stiles holds up his hands in supplication.

“Hey, buddy, no one said you were. But maybe like a little? Subconsciously?”

“Maybe if he hadn’t stayed over, you wouldn’t have to ask if he was trying to poison you,” Noah says.

“Good one,” Stiles replies with a laugh, and he steals a waffle just as Derek plates it.

“Good waffle.” And Noah Stilinski has to determine if getting to eat delicious waffles is more important than an ex-suspect sleeping over in his son’s bedroom.

Just this once, he’ll keep the rest of his criticisms to himself.

3

Noah wakes up, wipes his bleary eyes and heads to the bathroom, only to hear water running. He grunts, heads down to the coffee pot instead.

About ten seconds later, he hears footsteps on the stairs...but the pipes are groaning so the shower is still on. He peeks out from the kitchen to see Stiles rustling through one of his jackets—haphazardly strewn and then re-strewn across the back of the couch.

“Stiles?”

Stiles’s feet are already three steps back up the stairs. “Oh. Hey, Dad.”

“You’re here,” Noah says.

Stiles’s brows furrow. “Yeah?”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Then who’s in the bathroom?”

“Derek,” Stiles says matter-of-factly. 

“Why?”

“He smelled like wet dog. I don’t know if the shower will actually help, but.” He shrugs.

“It’s seven in the morning and Derek Hale is in our shower,” Noah says slowly. In the background, besides the pipes, he can hear coffee brewing.

Stiles looks at him like he’s being obtuse, but Noah will take it. “...Yeah?”

“Why is Derek Hale in our shower at seven in the morning?” Noah rephrases.

“He stank.” Stiles waits, but when his dad says nothing else, he jogs back upstairs.

“It’s seven in the morning and Derek Hale is in our shower,” he repeats. This shouldn’t be a thing. He should put a stop to the thing. “I’ll deal with it after coffee,” he tells himself.

He doesn’t.

4

Sheriff Stilinski arrives home at three in the morning, practically stumbling through the door in his exhaustion. He should go to bed. He _knows_ he should go to bed...but the couch is calling.

Just a few minutes, he tells himself. Then he’ll haul himself to his actual bed.

Unfortunately, the couch is already occupied.

Stiles is half-draped over Derek, drooling onto his chest, and one of Derek’s arms is curled around Stiles while the other dangles limply off the couch.

It would almost be sweet if they weren’t who they are.

He clears his throat, gives one of Stiles’s feet a nudge. Stiles barely wakes, looking confused, but Derek’s eyes are wide and he’s alert and Noah doesn’t know if it’s a werewolf thing or a broken person thing and that would hurt if the situation were different.

There are a lot of _if onlys_ in his life right now.

“Alright, kids,” he announces, although it still edges into whisper territory. “Time to head out,” to Derek, “and head to bed,” to Stiles.

Stiles blinks, barely opening his eyes, shuts them again. “Mmkay,” he mumbles, and he jerks his head towards the stairs.

They shift and Noah thinks this is going to work, but then Derek is sliding one arm under Stiles’s shoulder and one arm his knees.

“Oh, hell,” Noah mutters, rubs his own tired eyes as Derek scoops Stiles up and carries him upstairs.

At least it doesn’t seem like Stiles is up for anything other than sleeping. And Derek, well. Derek had been sleeping, too. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving. Or running. Or teleporting or however it is he gets to their house.

“I don’t condone this,” he says, but it’s not very effective.

Sheriff Stilinski sits down on the couch and it’s warm and comfortable...and he falls asleep there.

5

“Stiles, for the love of—“

The shout is followed by a series of banging noises and a hiss of pain. Then there are doors being opened, the bathroom’s then Stiles’s.

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, sitting at his computer like he’s _not_ the Antichrist—which Noah knows is an unfair thing to think after the possession but that thought is pushed so far back it’s nonexistent with his current woe.

Noah Stilinski takes a deep, less-calming-than-it-should-be breath and gestures back. “If you leave lube on the bathroom counter, it makes it very difficult for me to feign ignorance about what is happening in my house.” His voice is strained taut, like it could snap with him.

Stiles’s eyes bug out. “Sorry, Dad. Totally forgot about that.”

Noah takes a step forward, catches Stiles’s gaze flickering to the corner and back—he’s willfully ignorant, damn it—and points to his own face. “See this?”

Stiles squints. “No?”

“This is a cut. I cut myself shaving. Because of the thing in the bathroom. The thing on the counter that shouldn’t have been on the counter for me to find.”

“I don’t see anything,” Stiles tries.

“There are many things I wish I didn’t see, Stiles.” He glares. “You’re going to clean that entire bathroom. Today.”

Stiles opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, then sighs. “Okay.”

Noah softens slightly, lets out his own sigh. “Derek can help.”

He leaves without thoroughly investigating just where Derek might be or his state of dress.

+1

The pack meetings are a regular-irregular thing. Not everyone can always make it and sometimes they’re not entirely useful or productive, but Scott thinks it’s worth a shot and today they’re at his house. It’s weird.

But sometimes people bring snacks and Stiles gets to then eat their snacks. That part is pretty sweet, not that he wouldn’t show up to support Scott anyway. Usually he also gets to have uncomfortable no-Derek-and-I-aren’t-banging time, but Derek isn’t at the meeting today; he’s back at the loft, Skyping Cora, which is incredibly sweet to Stiles.

Scott is trying to explain why it’s important to all be on the same page and Stiles is exchanging glances with everyone only to point at Scott and nod in support, but then something starts buzzing.

A phone is ringing and Stiles scrabbles to pull it free from his pocket. “Sorry,” followed quickly by, “Hey, Dad.”

“ _What are you up to?_ ”

Stiles clears his throat, moves a few steps away so he’s not in the middle of everything. Instead on the side. Where all the supernaturals can still hear him but he can pretend he’s not being rude. “Not much. Normal stuff.”

He hears his dad scoff on the other end of the line. “ _‘Normal stuff,’_ ” he repeats. “ _Well, I assume that means tonight will be what you call a normal night with the, uh, **three** of us?_ ”

Stiles hums, very aware that everyone is listening keenly now. “Mmmmyep.”

His dad sighs. “ _I almost bought Derek a toothbrush today. I’m losing my mind. Make sure he brings one next time he comes over. He can even leave it here. I don’t like the idea of him not keeping up with his hygiene._ ”

“I...will do that,” Stiles agrees readily, and he swallows. “Alright. Love you. Bye.”

Everyone is staring at him.

“So,” Stiles says. “Back to business?”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is meant to lead into pack reaction. (And Finstock is coming, too.)
> 
> Any questions/suggestions/Sterek prompts: [Feed me.](http://allourheroes.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
